


What a Lovely Name

by RachelisTheWendyBird



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Cursed Storybrooke, First Meetings, Gen, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1937583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachelisTheWendyBird/pseuds/RachelisTheWendyBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reason Rumplestiltskin wanted to know Emma's name so badly was because it was his loophole in the curse. When he heard the name for the first time in Storybrooke, spoken by the savior, he got his memories back. So, this is what that first meeting was like from his point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What a Lovely Name

It was the sound of her name that had caused it, he was sure. Just a moment he had been standing in Granny’s Bed and Breakfast, having come to collect the rent, but then she had spoken her name. “Swan, Emma Swan.” And then his entire world had shifted, and he knew three things; my name is Rumplestiltskin. I am finding my son. The savior has come to break the curse.

Rumplestiltskin didn’t remember everything, of course. He knew his loophole in the curse was very different from the breaking power the savior had over it. It would take a moment for everything to come back. But he knew enough, and his mind was clear. It was like a veil, or a fog, had been lifted from around him, and at last he could see his purpose again.

“Emma,” Rumplestiltskin said with a slight smile. “What a lovely name.”

Everyone had turned to look at him. They would see Mr. Gold, he knew. The cunning, calculating, and poised man the remembered. He was so different from Rumplestiltskin, really.

“Thanks,” Emma said, then turned back to Granny.

Granny reached into a drawer in the front desk and pulled out a roll of cash. “It’s all here,” she said, holding it out to him.

“Of course it is, yes, thank you,” Rumplestiltskin said softly, taking the money and stowing it in an inner pocket. Then he looked at the savior. “You enjoy your stay,” he said, “Emma.”

Emma looked at him with the same expression as before, a sort of, “I don’t know who you are but I will find out” look. Rumplestiltskin liked it. He could see many things in her eyes; bravery, self-reliance, determination, and ooh, dominance. What a perfect woman to be the savior, he thought. Without another word, he left the inn. 

He could feel his memories coming closer, swirling at the edges of his mind. Rumplestiltskin barely knew it as he walked down the street back to his shop. The town seemed to disappear in a haze, and suddenly his mind was flooded with memories. Every big thing, every crucial moment, every important detail of his life came flooding back, flashing like lighting in front of his eyes. There was so much, so much to remember. And gods did some of it hurt! No, not some…a lot. Most. There was pain in his memories, and loneliness. It seemed to be the frame on which his life was built, actually. Names flashed across his mind, and the faces that went with them. People from his past, and each had their own special sting. Papa, he was the first, his father who had left him. Then there was Milah, his wife that left because she had never loved him. Cora came next, the woman who ripped out her own heart, choosing power over him. Then came Belle, oh beautiful Belle! She was his true love, the one he had sent away out of his own cowardice. And she had died because of that. The last to come was his son. He saw all their struggles together, before and after he had become the Dark One. He felt anew the fear of loosing him, the way he’d started slipping away. And then he saw the swirling green portal. He grasped his son’s hand, trying to hold on to him and the world of magic. But he couldn’t. And he let go, let go of the one he loved most in the world.

“Baelfire!” Rumplestiltskin gasped. He collapsed against something (it felt like wood and glass), his cane clattering to the floor. He looked down and saw the front counter of his shop. There was the register, the papers he had been sorting through before he had gone to collect the rent. Had he really walked all the way back here? Slowly, he bent to pick up his cane and made his way to the back room, where he sat down heavily on the couch he kept there. A very small part of him longed for the empty life Mr. Gold had led. But Rumplestiltskin knew that life wasn’t real, and he would not trade the pain for numbness, no. 

Rumplestiltskin had awoken, and now he had work to do. This was all he had been working towards for the past 300 years; finding a way back to his son. Now he was here, and the only thing left to do was help the savior, Emma, break the curse. He had always thought of his world as a game of chess, with everyone around him his pawns. He also had a few knights, some castles, and a bishop or two, but Emma was his queen. He would nudge her here and there, whispering in her ear and subtly pointing out the way. But the path he had made was hers to walk, and by the looks of her, she would be a strong traveller. 

“And so it begins,” Rumplestiltskin whispered. “Dearie.”


End file.
